Coming Home
by Terion
Summary: Follows Forging Anew. After volunteering to aid Sebastian in retaking a floundering Starkhaven in the place of his sister, Carver returns to Kirkwall after five years.
1. Coming Home

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the _Dragon Age_ universe but my games and strategy guides. This is just me making a mess in the sandbox.

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><p>Carver was fairly sure that the person he was twelve years ago wouldn't have looked fondly on the City of Chains as it loomed in the distance. It was as menacing from within the Free Marches as it had been from the Waking Sea yet it was…<p>

After seven years it was _home_. More home than any place had ever been for a Hawke.

"Ser?" questioned one of the initiates who'd come with him from the Kirkwall years before (and the only one who'd survived). "Should we camp for the night?"

Part of Carver wanted to agree, to lay down camp after their long trip through the Vimmark Mountains and have a rest for themselves as well as the horses. Another refused outright and he found himself agreeing with that part.

He'd expected only to be gone a _year_ at the most when he'd offered his service in place of his sister. When Sebastian had come running to ask for help with that letter in his hand from Starkhaven that said the city was falling apart, Treva had nearly gone herself. Even only a week – _a week_ – since she'd both killed her lover and discovered she was carrying his child, she had been willing to ride off into more trouble.

The Knight-Captain – _Commander_, he corrected mentally, even though by now the point was moot as the Chantry had all but collapsed – had been the first to step in her way. He had said something about her not having to make him chase her that had made every eyebrow rise in the room. Then he had stepped closer and hissed something none of them heard (but Carver could take a guess at) that had her hands folding over her belly as she sank into a chair. Sebastian had asked if she was sick then and the Commander had sternly explained about the child, causing the Starkhaven Prince to go pale.

Carver had stepped up then, saying that if he wanted a Hawke with him he'd have one. Treva had started to open her mouth, blue eyes glittering with a firm _no, you can't_, and then she had seemed to remember that he wasn't a snotty eighteen year-old anymore. Sebastian had agreed then the Commander had dragged him aside to say he could take five of the Order with him who didn't rely on lyrium and that had been that. Four years of fighting later they'd put Sebastian back on the Starkhaven throne and when things had finally _settled_ after a year he told the Prince he was going home. Sebastian had tried to argue him into staying but Carver only wanted two things.

He wanted to be home.

And he wanted to see his family.

"We ride on," he finally answered. "I'd rather sleep in familiar walls tonight rather than on the damn ground, Angus." Carver grinned over his shoulder at the only other full templar who'd been able to come with him. "Don't you agree, Marin?"

"A familiar roof would be fantastic," agreed the other templar as he dragged a gauntleted hand over sweat-stained red hair. Marin then narrowed his eyes at the distance between them and the city before saying, "I think we would make it before dark if we pushed the horses."

Carver's horse snorted, shaking his reins, and he leaned forward to pat the big gelding's shoulder. "You think so too, do you?" he asked with a grin. Then he looked at the men on either side of him and said, "Let's go."

They made it to the city gate as full dark was falling and Carver lifted one hand as a Guard called out, "Identify yourself!" from above them.

"Ser Carver Hawke," he answered, adding his surname just in case his sister's plans with the templars had fallen through. They hadn't heard anything out of Kirkwall to suggest it had but the city had been unnaturally quiet for the past five years. Better to not take chances.

"The Champion's brother!" exclaimed the Guard in an excited voice. "Maker preserve! Oric, bring a torch! Thom, Bargan, get this gate open!" Carver tilted his head back and saw the shadow above them that had to be the man, who shouted down, "Just give us a minute, messere, the damn gate sticks a bit."

Marin leaned forward as they waited and said, "Sounds like they haven't opened the gate much."

Carver just nodded in response as he could guess why. Treva and the Commander had let him in on their plans to change the Gallows and even _talking_ about it probably hadn't enamored them with anyone. And given that his sister's name still held respect, he could guess that they'd succeeded.

Just as well that the two initiates who'd died in Starkhaven had been firm supporters of Meredith's methods.

As one wing of the gate opened, Carver nudged his horse forward. There were several Guards inside holding torches to light the dark area and he nodded to them before asking, "Is there still a stable here at the gates?" One Guardsman pointed him in the proper direction and he called out his thanks as he led his fellow templars away from the gate. A few moments later their horses were in the care of a pair of sleepy-eyed stable boys and he'd informed the man in charge of them that he could tell the Guard Captain that they were gift from the templars.

It wasn't like he would have a use for a horse again. He didn't intend on leaving Kirkwall a second time and the Guards were likelier to have a use for them.

On their walk to the Gallows, Marin suddenly grabbed his arm and hissed, "Carver! Isn't that Francine?"

Carver turned his head and blinked at the sight of the familiar mage. He watched as she leaned down, hugging a young boy as an older couple looked on, and vaguely remembered that she was a native Marcher. Her family had lived in Kirkwall for generations and she'd been the first mage among them, dragged into the Circle as a child.

"She did it," he breathed, ignoring Angus' horrified expression and Marin's suddenly furrowed eyebrows. "By Andraste, she _did it._"

"Ser," said Angus nervously, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot, "shouldn't we –"

Carver held up a hand, his eyes never straying from the mage and her family. The boy had to be a younger brother or a nephew as the templars would have known if Francine had had a child. "We've been gone for five years," he reminded his brothers sternly. "Things have obviously changed in Kirkwall." _For the better_, he added to himself as he'd always been uncomfortable with the treatment of mages. Half the reason he'd joined the Order was to try and help keep his sister out of the trouble she always seemed to find.

Not that _that_ had helped.

Marin scowled for a moment then said, "We should make sure she goes back to the Gallows."

"No," growled Carver and grabbed the other man's shoulder. "_Five years_, Marin. We need to see the Commander before we go doing something that might just damage the integrity of the city." He could see that Marin didn't like the idea but after a moment the man's shoulders slumped and he nodded in agreement. They had both been there when Meredith had gone mad and before during the Qunari uprising and neither wanted to see the city fall into something like that again if it had finally found peace.

Crisis averted, they continued on their way and as they stepped into the Gallows courtyard, Carver blinked as he saw children – _children_ – playing there under the watch of two templars and a mage. Marin and Angus came to a similar grinding halt behind him and the initiate gasped, "Children? Here?"

"Children," came a strikingly familiar voice from behind them, "lighten the mood everywhere." Carver spun and found Treva standing there, her dark hair longer and held back in a low tie like Mother had worn hers and her blue eyes dancing with warmth. He had a brief disgruntled moment where he noticed she was _still_ wearing that damned black coat then he pushed it aside to move forward and drag her into a hug. She laughed and returned the embrace as she said, "I've missed you too, little brother."

After a moment he pulled away and asked, "What have you been _doing_ while we were gone?"

"Many things," she answered. Glancing towards Marin and Angus, she said, "I'm sure Cullen will fill you in on everything that's changed in the morning. Right now I should think all three of you would like to just get out of your armor and rest."

"The Commander can't speak to us now?" asked Marin.

Treva turned her gaze fully towards him and Carver blinked as he saw the same protective look on her face that always came up when she was defending him or one of her friends. Things really _had_ changed if she was getting that protective over a _templar_. "His door is open if you wish to go to him now, Ser. At this hour he'll still be in his office going over the last of today's paperwork." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she added sharply, "I would suggest, however, that you take the rest of tonight for rest. There have been _many_ changes in Kirkwall since you left and they are not all as simple as the presence of children in the Gallows."

Carver thought of his possible niece or nephew then and said just as sharply, "Marin, Angus, I think we can wait until the morning." Looking at the both of them, he continued. "Don't make me turn that into an order. Go. Rest. We traveled hard to get here for this so let's not waste it."

Marin glared and Angus looked anxiously between the two of them but both templars finally left. Carver breathed a sigh of relief as soon as they were out of range then flicked his eyes over to the children. Treva seemed to notice and leaned towards him, a smile twisting her lips.

"The blond boy," she said softly, nodding towards a small boy who was chasing a brunette girl. "His name is Mathis."

"Mathis," he repeated. Then he frowned and said, "That's not Fereldan. Or Marcher."

Treva nodded slightly. "It's Anders." At his look of confusion, she continued, "Quite literally. You knew _Anders_ was never his real name, right? He was called that in the Circle because he refused to tell anyone his name after the templars took him."

Carver nodded slightly, his eyes following the boy as he tagged the girl's elbow and laughed as she turned to chase him. "How exactly did they know he was from the Anderfels then?" he asked.

"Accent," answered his sister with a shrug. Then she smiled sadly and said, "He wouldn't even let me call him by his real name when we were alone. Said he'd been _Anders_ for too long but that he appreciated the sentiment."

They stood together in silence for a moment, just watching the children at their game, until he said softly, "You wanted to give him something of his father." Carver moved closer and wrapped his arm around his sister, feeling her shoulders tense then relax even through his armor. "I understand. And Maker I'm sorry I haven't been here. We –"

"Shh," she interrupted swiftly. "I can wait and hear it all tomorrow when you talk to Cullen. No doubt he'll ask for my help to explain everything." Her arm wrapped around his waist and she leaned her head against his armor. "You're back. That's all that matters to me, little brother."

He smiled at that then jerked his head back towards the children as a small voice called out, "Mama!" and he realized the boy was racing towards them. Treva stepped out from under his arm and swept him up, laughing as she spun before hugging him close.

"Have you been good while I've been gone?" she asked and Carver found himself seeing _their_ mother in her right then, memories of when _she_ had held _them_ that same way clawing up from the depths of his brain.

"Yes!" exclaimed the boy as he wound tiny arms around her neck. Carver could see him now from this close and he didn't know what he'd expected to see. A mini-Anders'? No, at five years old the boy wasn't showing any particular facial features from either of his parents. All there was the moment was the blond hair – slightly darker, he noted, than his father's – and the blue eyes that seemed to be a Hawke staple.

The boy noticed him then and it was a purely _innocent_ notice. Not scared to be taken away from his mother's arms. Not terrified to be told he was _wrong_ because he was the child of two apostates. No, the boy was just _curious_ at who this stranger was with his mother.

_Maker_, thought Carver as the implications hit him. _She really did do it._ Then again his sister had always delighted in turning the world upside down and then laughing in the face of everyone who had told her she couldn't.

"Mathis," he heard her say then and refocused in on them, "do you know who this is?" He watched as the boy's forehead wrinkled in concentration and sucked in a breath. _That_ look…that look was all his father. He remembered it from nights at the Hanged Man when Anders had been sitting off on his own scribbling something for that damned manifesto of his.

Mathis eyed him for a moment then shook his head. Treva smiled and brushed his hair behind an ear before leaning in to kiss his cheek, her eyes watching Carver. "That's your uncle," she said softly. "He just got back home from helping a friend of ours very far away in Starkhaven."

The boy blinked then smiled broadly and Carver couldn't help but smile back because that sweet expression was so _Bethany_ that he couldn't help it. Treva had never smiled at him like that; not that he could recall, anyway, as by that time she'd been aware of their circumstances and wasn't that innocent. His twin though…Bethany had always been like that, even when they'd found out that magic was trouble.

"Welcome home, Uncle," said Mathis with that same smile and Carver stepped in closer to them, lifting one hand to rest on his nephew's back and the other for his sister's hand. Treva gripped his gauntlet carefully and smiled at him, the honest expression telling him exactly how glad she was to have him back.

Smiling down at them both, Carver said warmly, "I'm glad to be here, Mathis." Apostate sister, upside-down Kirkwall, and innocent would-be mage nephew; it was all _home_.


	2. Coda: A Lesson in Change

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of the _Dragon Age_ universe but my games and strategy guides. This is just me making a mess in the sandbox.

**Author's Note:** After finishing _Coming Home_, I felt like I needed to tack this on as a coda. Because not every Templar is as receptive to the changes in the Gallows as Carver.

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><p>"Rawr! I'm an Archdemon!"<p>

Carver couldn't help but laugh as three girls scattered before his nephew as the five year-old chased them around the Gallows courtyard with a black cloak bundled around him. From the amused smiles on the faces of those in the courtyard, this was a regular game of the children. Even the two templars in padded armor sparring off to the side paused briefly to smile at their antics.

It was so _different_ from when he'd joined.

But better. He would definitely say that filling the courtyard with the laughter of children was much better than the cloud of dread that had once hung over it.

Since he was waiting for Marin and Angus to arrive for their return conversation with the Commander, Carver leaned against a pillar and watched the children. To his surprise, one of the girls picked up something from the cobblestones and he saw that it was a child-sized waster. She brandished it and shouted in a childish treble, "I'm the Hero of Ferelden! Archdemons don't scare me!"

Mathis raised both arms at that, tiny hands twisted into claws, and made growling noises as his cloak billowed around him from the motion. The girl grinned and batted the sword at him and a smile twitched at the corner of Carver's mouth as he watched the pair 'battle'. A few moments later she stabbed the boy in the chest and he squawked before crying, "No! I am dead!" and collapsing in a heap.

Many in the courtyard began applauding at the girl waved her sword and skipped around the dead 'Archdemon'. Then the other two girls and another boy ran up, the boy snapping, "How come the Archdemon can't win?"

"The Archdemon never wins!" exclaimed Mathis as he bounded upright, trying to untangle himself from the cloak. Carver chuckled and shook his head as the boy reached out and lightly shoved the 'Hero of Ferelden'. "I get to be the Hero next time though."

One of the other girls giggled and asked, "Why not the Champion?"

Carver's eyes darted to his nephew and he watched as the boy's face twisted into an expression that seemed beyond his years. And one that he'd seen on Anders' face when the healer had not wanted to do something. Then the look was gone and he said solemnly, "Mama wasn't there," before he gave up on untangling the cloak and flicked one end at the 'Hero'.

The girl stuck out her tongue at that and batted at him with the tip of the sword, which started the little group into a game of tag. After a moment they sprinted past him as Mathis was the one tagged and the boy grinned up at him, shouting, "Hello, Uncle!" before he raced past after his friends.

Carver turned to look after them, shaking his head as he watched a mage deep in a book step out of the way of the racing children in an obviously practiced move. His sister really had done something amazing. Though from Marin and Angus' expressions last night, they weren't as appreciative of the changes as he was.

They hadn't grown up in a home with three apostates, sick with the knowledge that they were different and trying to push past the feeling that they were expendable.

As though summoned by the mere thought of him, Angus was suddenly running towards him from an open doorway and the initiate's face was drawn up in the expression Carver had learned meant something had gone _wrong_ and the young man hadn't stopped it. He'd tried his hardest to break the boy of it while they were in Starkhaven and had succeeded when they were in a fight. Angus fought like a demon when you put a sword in his hand.

Off the battlefield, he still didn't know what to do with himself.

With a sigh, Carver pushed away from the pillar and noticed that the younger man was dressed in his armor again. Given that they had spent most of their time in Starkhaven in armor, he'd taken the opportunity to dress down for the first day of their homecoming and was only wearing a shirt and breeches with the old worn boots he'd left in his room five years previous.

"What is it, Angus?"

"I…its Marin, ser. He's…" Angus' eyes darted around them nervously, like he was expecting someone to pop up and attack him for what he was about to say. "He's not _happy_ with the changes."

Carver groaned at that news and lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. "What did he _do_, Angus?" he asked even though he didn't really want to know.

The initiate made a face then burst out, "He's following Francine! He kept repeating last night that she's not supposed to be out and that someone needed to watch her just in case."

_Just in case she ran_, Carver filled in for himself. _Or did blood magic. Or got possessed. Or any number of other terrible things that the Chantry thinks mages do if templars aren't watching them._

"Maker, I told him to not get involved," he growled, already feeling a headache coming on. "Come on, we still have to see the Commander. Now we have to just inform him that Marin's positioned himself to possibly screw the Order."

Angus trailed along at his heels like a lost puppy on the way to the Commander's office and as Carver moved to knock on the door, he heard the one across the hall open. "Finally come to see Cullen, little brother?" chirped Treva as she exited the First Enchanter's office, a sheaf of papers in hand. As he turned to look at her, she frowned and asked, "Didn't you have someone else with you last night?"

"He's stalking Francine apparently," growled Carver as he noticed she wasn't wearing Anders' old coat today. Then he glanced into the office through the open door and saw it was folded over the back of the chair. So much for _that_.

"Stalking Francine…oh Andraste's flaming _tits_." Angus' eyes went wide at the curse and Carver recalled that the boy had been a Chantry orphan before he'd come to the Order. And despite knowing some particularly vulgar curses himself, Carver always made sure to say them in Rivaini (mostly since Isabela had taught them to him that way first). Rolling his eyes skyward at the boy, he focused again on his sister as she tossed the papers back into her office and continued, "He's going to get himself _killed_. _Cullen!_"

The door behind him opened and Carver glanced over his shoulder to see his Commander standing there, hazel eyes narrowed as he finished buckling the straps on his breastplate. "I heard, Treva," he said shortly, gaze flickering over Carver and Angus. "Ser Carver, Angus, it's good to have you both back. Given you've just returned, I'm going to have to ask you both to remain here while we deal with this."

"Of course," answered Carver quickly, the sharp tone in his voice sure to let Angus know that he was _not_ to argue with two superior officers.

"Excellent," said Cullen with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He then stepped back into the office to grab his sword, cinching it around his waist as he and the Champion of Kirkwall fell into step as they strode away. Carver watched them go with narrowed eyes, his brain going in all sorts of directions at the seemingly _close_ relationship they had. Then he brushed the surge of brotherly protectiveness aside and turned towards Angus, who was shifting nervously again.

The initiate then turned wide eyes up to him and asked, "Ser…what do we do now?"

"We wait, Angus. _Right_._ Here._ And we hope my sister doesn't drag Marin back here with his head detached because I am feeling the need to beat him bloody myself. Beating up corpses is boring."

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><p>It was not even an hour when Treva kicked Marin through the door, sending the unarmored templar stumbling into a heap at Carver and Angus' feet. Carver looked down at him, not feeling particularly sympathetic given what damage his brother might have done, and glared at Angus to make sure the initiate knew he wasn't supposed to feel it either.<p>

The glare the boy summoned up was weak but at least he tried.

"Are you _stupid_?" snarled Treva as she stalked forward, one leg twitching as if she wanted to kick the prone templar again. "You come in here after five years and you don't even think of _waiting_ to see what's changed in the city?"

"Treva." Carver jerked his head towards the Commander at the cool, clipped tone of voice. Cullen's anger wasn't brash and open like his sister's; no, it was much colder and far worse as it hid itself behind calm. "That's enough."

Blue eyes flashed and Cullen asked, "Why don't you go have lunch with Mathis?" For a moment Carver couldn't believe he would even _ask_ her to leave but then he watched in awe as his sister's jaw clenched. As she nodded and turned back, he couldn't help but smile as he heard her growled words.

"Fine, he's your templar, _you_ handle him. But so help me, Cullen, if he jeopardizes the life of one of my mages again, I won't be so easy on him."

"_Easy_?" gasped Marin as he managed to rise to his hands and knees. "Maker, woman, I'm lucky I still have a nose after that punch."

Treva's lips curled and she started to snarl something but Cullen's hand rose to grip her arm. She glared then let out a hiss before tugging away from his grip and storming out into the templars small courtyard. Carver watched her go until the Commander closed the door and moved forward to jerk Marin up off the floor by his arm.

"You _idiot_," he snarled and _there_ was all the anger that was threatening to escape from the man. Carver briefly saw Marin's bloody nose before Cullen dragged him into the office and he motioned Angus to follow as he stepped inside after them and closed the door.

Cullen shoved Marin into a chair positioned in front of his desk then slammed his hands down onto the arms, looming over the other man. The bloodied templar squirmed backwards despite having nowhere to go and leaned away from their angry superior as far as he possibly could in the chair.

"Ser –"

"I don't want to hear it!" bellowed Cullen. "I expected _better_ of you, Ser Marin, when you returned. It did not seem to me when you left that you were one of _Meredith's_."

Carver blinked a little at the venom the former Knight-Commander's name was hissed in but then realized he shouldn't have been surprised. It was likely that they had found other things she had done that they hadn't known about.

"No!" exclaimed Marin. "I'm not, ser! I just…"

"You just _what_? You could not do as Ser Carver asked and waited to speak to me before you went off to do something that could jeopardize our position in this city?"

The younger man bowed his head and Cullen let out a dissatisfied grunt before he pushed away from the chair, straightening to his full height. "I am waiting to hear an explanation, Ser Marin," continued the blond man angrily.

Marin shook his head and stammered, "I don't know what I was thinking, ser! It's just…there weren't any mages in Starkhaven! And I –"

"No mages in Starkhaven?" interrupted Cullen. His gaze flicked to Carver in question.

Carver nodded slowly and explained, "They never rebuilt the Circle after the mages escaped here. Given that the templars there were summoned back to Orlais by the Divine, no one felt the need to do so either." He paused, mulling over his next words and the decision he'd made while discussing a mage-child with Sebastian. "Those with untrained magic were used against us, forced into becoming abominations and let loose like dogs. After we took the city, the Prince and I came to an agreement that until the Chantry was able to rebuild, any mage-children found would be sent here."

_To templars_, were the words he'd used with his men as Corbin and Walter, his Meredith sympathizers, had still been alive when he'd first broached the idea. The phrasing he'd used with Sebastian had been similar given the Prince's views but his own were different. He'd wanted to send the children somewhere where they would be _people_ and not _monsters_.

The Commander's eyes narrowed at how mages had been used then he nodded and turned his attention back to Marin. Startling like a young bird just out of the nest, the man stammered into an explanation of just doing what he thought was _right_ and Carver sighed.

"Men," he said aloud before anyone else could speak as Marin finished, "tend to do more foolish things when they think they are right." Carver shrugged and looked apologetically at Cullen for the interruption as he explained, "My father told me that once after we watched a templar cut down a mage-child who'd attacked him out of fear and burned him badly."

He shifted his attention to Marin as his fellow templar seemed to be relaxing and fixed him with a furious stare. "My father," growled Carver, "was an apostate. So is my sister, the very Champion of this city, and so was my _twin sister_." Marin met his gaze nervously and he hoped the other man read that he was _not_ helping him.

Cullen held up a hand to forestall anything else being said and turned his attention back to the seated templar.

"Ser Marin," he stated sternly, "you are hereby stripped of your rank and demoted to the position of initiate until I deem it suitable to return your rank. You will be allowed to remain in your room but you will _train_ with them and you will _learn _with them. If, knowing this if your new place, you do not wish to remain with us, then you will be forced to leave the city."

"Leave?" breathed Marin as Angus hitched a surprised breath at the punishment. "Commander, I…this is my _home_."

"Then you will submit to my terms?"

Marin bowed his head then nodded. "Yes, ser. I apologize, ser."

Cullen scowled and Carver snapped, "The _Commander_ is not who you need to apologize to, Marin." He could tell from the look on Cullen's face that the man was losing his patience. And Marin had been _his_ responsibility technically. "Your apology should be to Francine _and_ her family."

"But not at _this_ moment," said Cullen as Marin started to rise, seemingly to go do just that. "You and Angus will report to Ser Walthrop tomorrow. For now…" He paused to draw in a deep breath and for a moment Carver thought he was going to say _get out of my sight_. "For now go acclimate yourselves to what has changed in the Gallows. Do _nothing_ to the mages. _Watch_ your brothers and sisters. And find Siegfried and get him to heal your nose before it gets stuck at that angle."

As the Commander fell silent, Marin took it as his leave and fled the office. Angus' eyes flicked nervously after him then to Cullen before falling on Carver, who nodded at the boy. As he followed, Cullen moved to sink into the chair behind his desk and groaned, "Maker help me, I nearly let Treva have the man. That stunt of his could have cost us a great deal."

His sister's name brought Carver's brotherly protectiveness raging back and he clenched his teeth so he didn't just come out with what he wanted to say. Controlling it, he sat in the chair Marin had vacated and asked, "What exactly _has_ changed since we've been gone, Commander?" If the other man noticed the tightness in his voice, he didn't show it.

Cullen sighed then stood up again to unbuckle his sword belt and lay it aside. As he started working on the armor buckles, he began talking, explaining the changes that he and Treva had put forth slowly.

The first had been in the Gallows itself: teaching templars to not immediately suspect the worst and the mages to not fear themselves. They had weeded out the last of Meredith's sympathizers during that first year…but not before one of them had sent a letter to the Divine about the interim Knight-Commander's _dalliance_ with the apostate lover of the abomination who had destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry.

"Dalliance?" interrupted Carver and now he _couldn't_ stop himself. "Are you sleeping with my sister?"

"Your sister," answered Cullen with a scowl as he hung his breastplate on an armor stand positioned in one corner, "is a woman of her own mind; though I commend you stepping up to protect her honor. And, _no_, I was not then nor am I now sleeping with your sister. We are _friends_."

There was something in his tone of voice and the set of his shoulders that screamed to Carver that they were something more than just _friends_ but he let it be. He would corner Treva later and ask her about it, sibling-to-sibling.

"May I continue?"

"Yes, ser."

Cullen glossed over the response from the Divine, saying that they were safe thanks to the Circles around Thedas beginning their own revolts at the time. The Divine could not set aside trying to restabilize the other Circles to turn her attentions upon Kirkwall so they had gone on with their changes.

The second year had begun with mages being allowed to visit their families with a single templar escort to settle any fearful minds and to keep the mages from being attacked. After months of nothing but normalcy, the city had settled and the templar escorts were removed to be allowed their own freedoms.

Carver learned that Treva had completely reorganized the mages teaching methods, turning them into something that was more like their father's teachings. He well remembered sitting with his sisters during those even though he couldn't do magic and just watching them as they went through those lessons. Harrowings were still ongoing, he learned, but in the past five years only a dozen had failed them as opposed to the _hundred_ that had during Meredith's last three years. And in the past three, no mage had become an abomination or turned to blood magic.

"We did," began Cullen as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, "have a visit from a Chantry Seeker two years ago."

"A Seeker?" questioned Carver, leaning forward as well. "What did they want?"

"Treva."

Carver's stomach flipped at that but given that his sister was still in Kirkwall, he relaxed and asked, "What for?"

Cullen chuckled. "To help find Warden Kendrin Tabris and to stop the collapse of the Chantry. They were apparently unaware that she was still in Kirkwall and made a kidnapping of Varric to find out the truth."

"_Varric?_ For the _truth?_" Carver couldn't help but burst out laughing at that. "What did he tell them?"

"Enough of it to satisfy them as well as that she had killed Anders in outrage for the death of the Grand Cleric. He also said he had no idea where she was, made sure everyone else in the city said the same, and sent a messenger here to make sure she and Mathis were hidden just in case they dropped by." Cullen smiled as he continued, "If I hadn't already been impressed with him managing to keep us in lyrium, I would have been from that."

Leaning back in his chair, eyebrows arched slightly at what the dwarf had done, Carver made a mental note that he needed to go see if Varric still kept the same room at the Hanged Man. He still owed the merchant prince a round of drinks and now he needed to thank him for keeping his sister and nephew out of trouble. Then he frowned and said, "He told them Treva killed Anders in outrage to keep her off their radar."

The blond nodded solemnly before speaking. "Not long after you left, she and I met with Varric so I could discuss his aiding us in getting lyrium. She left us early, feeling ill, and he brought up the subject of which story going around that he should push as being the truth." Cullen shifted uncomfortably with that revelation then finished, "It seemed the one that would best protect her and Mathis in the end."

For a moment Carver didn't know what to say to that. On the one hand, having the boy hear the story that his mother had essentially _murdered_ his father could be scarring. Of course, on the other hand, having the truth known could bring people that would hunt his sister and nephew with the intention of hurting or killing them both.

Thinking on it, he'd rather have the lie that would save them.

"I see," he managed to say finally. Then Carver rose from the chair, suddenly feeling a need to go find his sister, and said, "If that's all, Commander –"

"Go," said Cullen with a smile, waving him on. "You know the major points of what's changed and I know you won't cause any trouble. And do let Treva know she won't need to hunt Marin down and turn him into toad."

Nodding, he left the office and paused at the gate that led into the templar quarters. Childish voices rang out ahead of him from the courtyard, mixing with the clash of sparring and the flicker of magic across his senses.

Carver smiled to himself with the thought _this is what all Circles and templars should be_ then continued down the steps into the side courtyard to go find his family.


End file.
